


This Wheel's On Fire

by alby_mangroves, LadyC



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: 1960s, Drawing, Drug Use, Fanart, Gay and Mutant in the 1960s, Hippies, M/M, Powered AU, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Vietnam War, Woodstock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3275612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyC/pseuds/LadyC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Woodstock, 1969. Charles, a Vietnam veteran who uses drugs and isolation to cope with his PTSD, is there to have a groovy time and keep the outside world at bay for just a little longer. Erik, leader of a radical mutant activist group, is there to recruit in preparation for his biggest and most public protest yet. Sparks fly when they meet, but is there any chance of a future for two people with such different goals?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the link to a YouTube playlist I put together featuring all the songs that inspired chapter titles and set the scene for the story in my head: [Playlist on Youtube](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLdtcCW8zZPaL_K7BrERIUIxYehW2SJNhp)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the amazingly talented Alby_Mangroves, whose gorgeous art inspired this story. The art is embedded in the story itself, but be sure to check out the art masterpost and give kudos! 
> 
> Thanks also to my beta, KP, whose support and unflinching honesty were integral to putting the story together. 
> 
> I learned a ton and took a lot of inspiration from the 1970 documentary "Woodstock" by Michael Wadleigh, which I highly recommend to anyone interested in the event or the time period generally.
> 
> Alby's notes: Thank you to LadyC for taking my prompt and running to wonderful places with it, I'm so happy you were inspired! Thanks to Asya_Ana, SpaceAltie and Mssdare for their cheering ♥ Art has been crossposted to my **[DA](http://albymangroves.deviantart.com/) | [LJ](http://alby-mangroves.livejournal.com/) | [TUMBLR](http://www.artgroves.tumblr.com)**

****

 

**Prologue**

_Vietnam, 1964_

 

“I’m sorry, Hank. I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have a choice, Charles.”

Hank frowned as he put down his binoculars and turned to face his comrade. They had already lost the other two members of their fireteam. They needed to get moving to the rendezvous point if they were to have any hope of rejoining their squadron.

 

 

Charles was well aware of this, but found himself unable to move. People were dying all around him and he felt each death like it was his own. In just the last minute, he had felt shrapnel tear his body apart, had his legs paralyzed, felt bullets enter his skull. And still, that was preferable to the final thoughts that barraged him, cries of fear and anger, a crush of regret, tears that were barely able form before blackness came.

He should have known this was how it would be. But he had been naïve. When he was drafted, he thought he’d be able to handle it. So instead of following Raven’s advice and influencing his draft officer to let him go ahead and start at Oxford that fall, Charles had chosen to maintain his moral high ground and do his duty to his country. And now it was too late.

With the amount of effort it took to maintain telepathic shields to keep himself sane despite the constant agony around him, Charles was doubtful he could convince a superior officer to give him a cigarette, let alone to send him home. But still, he was here in one piece and that was all thanks to Hank McCoy.

When Charles had first arrived in Vietnam three months ago, Hank had quickly recognized a fellow mutant in distress and had worked with him to create those shields. Hank had saved his life and his sanity. Charles owed it to him to get them out of here alive.  

Summoning what little remained of his strength, Charles forced his eyes open and met Hank’s. “This was supposed to be a recon mission. The village was supposed to be empty, not filled with combatants. I wasn’t ready to block out a full-on firefight.”

Hank frowned. “You should be able to handle it, regardless. But that’s a conversation for another time. Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go.”

Charles and Hank picked their way along the outskirts of the village. They came upon the remainder of their squadron about a quarter mile away. Their lieutenant approached them immediately.

“Xavier, McCoy, nice of you to join us. Any of our other men still alive out there?”

“No, Sir,” Hank responded grimly.

“We’re seven men down, then. These sons of bitches deserve what’s coming. Men, hold your positions. The cavalry is arriving.”

Before Charles could process what the lieutenant was saying, the air was filled with the unmistakable sound of bombers rapidly approaching. A moment later, there were a series of flashing lights and deafening explosions.

Hank gripped his arm and Charles struggled to reinforce his shields, but it was too much. He went white and sunk to the ground.

“Charles!” Hank whispered urgently. “Charles, get up, they’re going to see…”

“I can’t stop it, Hank. I feel it. I feel them all.”

And then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Charles awoke to find himself lying on a cot inside an unusually large tent. He blinked, confused. This didn’t appear to be a med bay. And where was Hank?

He forced himself into a sitting position and found himself facing a tall man with a kind smile on his face that was only slightly offset by the armed guards flanking him. “You’re finally awake. Good.”

Charles sat up straighter and saluted. He had never seen this man before, but his uniform and security detail suggested a high-ranking officer.

The man’s smile widened. “At ease. I’m Major William Stryker. I run a special team of soldiers with unique abilities and I’ve heard that you, Private Xavier, are an extraordinary soldier.”

Charles stared at him in confusion. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information, sir, but honestly, I’m rather far off from an excellent soldier.”

“I didn’t say you were excellent. I said you were extraordinary. And you do have abilities that are beyond the ordinary, don’t you, Private?”

Charles hesitated.

Stryker leaned in closer. “You can be honest with me. I’m here to help you reach your full potential.”

Though he was still weak, Charles reached out tentatively to lightly brush Stryker’s mind and instantly recoiled. Even with all the horrors he’d been experiencing over the last few months, he had never encountered a mind as harsh and twisted as this one. He tried to tamp down his rising panic as he responded as calmly as possible. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In an instant, the smile disappeared from Stryker’s face and was replaced with a snarl. “Don’t lie to me! I do not have time for bullshit, Xavier. If you don’t tell me what your power is in the next ten seconds, I will personally hunt down every member of your family and torture them until they’ve told me everything they know about you.”

Charles froze. Stryker meant every word he was saying. He couldn’t risk anything happening to Raven.

“I’m waiting. Five, four, three…”

He was interrupted by the sound of the tent flap opening and a voice calling out, “Major Stryker, Sir.”

Stryker whirled around to see a nervous-looking young man standing at attention just inside the door and barked, “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

“I apologize, Sir, but there is an urgent communication. For your eyes only. My orders were to bring it to your attention without delay.”

“Fine.” Stryker turned back to Charles. “Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook, Xavier. I’ll be back shortly.” He turned and pointed at a stocky man with long sideburns lurking in the corner. “You, keep an eye on him. See if you can get anything useful out of him.”

As Stryker exited, Charles mentally reached out, but found himself unable to get a clear handle on the man’s mind. Still, he had the strange sense that this was someone he could trust. For lack of any better options, Charles opened his mouth to ask for assistance when the man abruptly strode forward and shoved Charles hard enough to knock him off the cot. Charles landed hard on his stomach, too shocked to cry out. He moved to get his hands under him and felt a heavy boot on his back. The panic returned full force.

“Stay down,” the man whispered gruffly. “Trust me, bub, you want Stryker to get bored with you as quickly as possible. Just stay down and shut up.”

Charles nodded his assent and the boot was removed before Stryker strode briskly back in. Charles shifted his head just enough to see Stryker eyeing his limp form with disgust.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“I think this one’s a bust, Sir. Seems like he just has these random fits for no reason. Less special than special needs.”

Stryker nodded, clearly distracted. “Fine, fine.” He gestured to one of the guards by the door. “Get him to a sickbay. Or just drop him in the jungle, I don’t care.”

Charles yelped as he was dragged roughly to his feet and hauled out of the tent. Stryker had begun filling in the kind guard in low tones and Charles strained to hear what he was saying. He was only able to make out one word – “Magneto.”


	2. I Can't Make It Anymore

_Westchester, NY 1969_

 

“I’m sorry, Hank. I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have a choice, Charles.”

Charles sighed and stripped, allowing Hank to add his favorite paisley button-down and well-worn bellbottoms to the laundry hamper. It was an inconvenience, but to be fair to Hank, Charles couldn’t remember the last time they’d been washed. Hank tended to be much more sensitive about that type of thing. Charles always figured that the whole house was going to end up smelling like pot anyway, so why bother?

Charles pulled on a new pair of jeans and his second-favorite paisley button-down and then headed to the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and studied the row of vials filled with yellow liquid before choosing one and taking a syringe along with it. He was running low. He’d need to ask Hank to cook up more soon. He sat down on the toilet and tied a rubber tube around his arm, tapping up a vein. He hated the track marks that ran up and down his arm – they made him look like a fucking heroin addict or something – but he supposed that’s what long sleeves were for.

He injected himself and sighed contentedly as the drug hit his system. Thank God for Hank McCoy.

Charles had been in rough shape following his return from the war. Months and then years went by and he still woke up every morning to the echoes of friends, enemies, and strangers dying in his head. When he tried to put effort into making them stop, he found himself struggling to maintain even his basic shields and felt overwhelmed by incessant voices any time he left the mansion. Raven checked in on him often and did the best she could, but he was too proud to reveal to her the true depths of his suffering. He was just about ready to accept that he was permanently broken when he received an unexpected visit from an old friend.

Hank had gone on to medical school to study pharmacology and had gotten a job at a New York based lab. Over drinks, he confided to Charles that he often stayed late at the lab to work on some personal projects, mainly research into the interactions between various medications and mutations. Charles tried to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice as he asked if Hank might be able to help him with his problem. 

Hank had been horrified to hear about what he had been going through and made finding a cure for Charles his top priority. A few weeks later, Hank had arrived at the mansion with a vial of yellow liquid. And the voices stopped.

Charles had been taking Hank’s miracle drug ever since, first weekly, then daily, then twice a day. About a year ago, the amount Charles needed had surpassed what Hank was able to produce given his limited time and resources. Charles felt the solution was simple – he would hire Hank as his personal physician and retrofit his father’s lab to suit his needs. Hank was delighted with the idea of being able to devote all of his time to the research he was passionate about and readily agreed, moving in less than a week later. Within a month, Charles was able to venture outside without risking a breakdown. Within six months, he and Hank made it a point to go out to a concert every few weeks and spend time with similar-minded people. Sometimes they even got laid.

Charles felt, on reflection, that everything had turned out rather well.

He made his way down to the living room and took some rolling papers out of the end-table drawer. Time for his other medicine.

He had just settled in on the couch to enjoy a joint when the door slammed open. Charles was halfway under the couch before he processed what the noise was. He rose shakily. Five fucking years and his first reaction to loud noises was still to duck and cover like he was back in the jungle. Clearly he needed to up his dosage.

He turned towards the door to find Raven staring him down. “I saw that, Charles. You need help.”

He found the joint on the floor and picked it up, waving it in front of her. “Yeah, that’s what this is for.”

“That’s not what I mean, Charles, and you know it. Between that and the shit Hank is giving you, I feel like we haven’t been able to have a real conversation in years. I wish you’d just…”

Charles sighed loudly and flopped back down on the couch, flipping on the TV. He was sure it would irritate Raven even more, but her constant self-righteousness irritated him, so he figured it all evened out.

“Charles, you always say I don’t understand, but has it occurred to you that I’ll never be able to if you don’t talk to me? Please, let me in. Maybe we can…”

“Oh, look at this.” He raised the volume and gestured towards the screen, where a dour man was explaining the most recent list of casualties from Vietnam. “Can you believe this bloody war is still going on? You know, if our dear leaders could just get it through their thick heads that we’re all the same, that peace is the only option, we wouldn’t be stuck with all this…”

“Yeah, you’ve gone on this rant before. And, guess what, I’m still not interested in hearing it. Not from you. You have the potential to stop the whole thing right now and instead you’re just sitting around in a gated mansion all day, numb and powerless.”

“You’ve gone on that rant before, too, sister dear.”

Hank entered with Charles’s midday dose in a syringe and startled to find Raven there.

“It’s only 2pm, why are you giving him a dose now?”

“He was starting to hear echoes. I think he needs a third dose added in.”

“Already got it, man, thanks.”

Hank looked surprised. “Oh. Sorry, I thought we’d talked about trying to have me be the one to administer? When possible? I mean, if you need it and I’m not there, of course you can…” He turned to Raven abashedly. “Sometimes he needs it right away and I can’t always be there.”

Raven shook her head in disgust. “You’re only enabling him, you know. You’re supposed to be his personal physician, not his supplier.”

Charles snorted. “Oh, come off it, Raven. Hank’s been a better friend to me in the last few years than you ever have, and we all know it.”

Raven just stared at him for a moment before shaking her head and turning back to the TV. She would have been stung by that not so long ago, but now she was just disappointed.

On the news, the reporter had moved on to discussing a love-in in Washington Square Park. Charles smiled and tried to sound conciliatory as remarked, “Well, there’s something nice to see, at least, eh? Not everyone’s gone mad.”

Hank returned his smile, but Raven just rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, like that does any good. Do you people seriously not see that all of this is just a way of ignoring problems instead of addressing them? They could at least make it a real protest.”

“No, you’re not getting it,” Charles insisted. “It is a protest. All those people are there because they believe love and peace are more powerful than war. Every person who attends a sit-in or even a concert with radical music is standing for that. That’s why Hank and I go so often.”

“Oh, I see, so it’s all for the good of humanity? Nothing selfish about it?”

Charles bristled. “Well, of course there’s a degree of self-interest. I’ve told you how calming those things are for me. No matter how high my dosage is, I still get the emotions when large groups of people around me are all feeling the same way. All those people blissed out on sex and drugs and rock and roll? Better than any drug. And before you get all judge-y again, tell me this – don’t I deserve to have some peace? If this is the only way I can get it, after everything I’ve been through, don’t I deserve it?”

Raven’s face softened and she reached out to take his hand. “Everyone deserves peace, Charles.” She gave him a sad smile, then let go of his hand and got up to leave. “But you can only get it if you’re willing to fight for it.”

As Raven closed the door behind her, Charles felt a strange stirring of what might have been guilt. It was not something he was interested in contemplating at the moment, so he shook it off and turned to Hank. “So, I was thinking we could both use some time away.”

“Oh, really? But where would we go?”

“I heard something the other day about a concert that’s going to be happening upstate in a few weeks...”


	3. I Shall Be Released

_New York City, 1969_

 

Erik was growing increasingly irritated. The sun hadn’t even risen yet and here he was, skulking around an abandoned warehouse in one of the dodgier parts of Queens, and it was looking like it might all be for nothing. Emma had assured him that she had good intel on the location of a Weapon X facility, but maybe he should have been more skeptical. She, along with Azazel and Riptide, had come over to his side quickly after he had finally killed Shaw. At the time he’d assumed they were all just opportunists, but could there have been an ulterior motive?  

He took some comfort in the fact that she seemed to be in as bad a mood as he was. But not much. He was exhausted and he was sure his team was even more so. He was about ready to call it a night when he noticed an abrupt change in the building’s underlying structure. Where there should have just been support beams behind a plaster wall, he felt gears, screws, and a cavernous space beyond.

He stepped closer and ran his hand along the wall, quickly locating a gap in the plaster. He pulled at it and the section swung out easily. Behind it lay a heavy metal door marked “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.”

Erik felt his tiredness dissipate as adrenaline took over. He raised his hands to tear the door off its hinges, then moved back and allowed his team to make quick work of the security personnel inside. He stepped over the prone bodies and moved further into the space, which appeared to be a guardroom. Erik went through a second door at the back of the room and found himself in a laboratory. The central area was dotted with a variety of workstations, strange machines, and medical equipment.   

A team of five scientists were gathered around a table off to the left, poking and prodding a specimen with keen interest. It wasn’t until Emma loudly cleared her throat that they noticed that anyone else had entered the room. When they finally saw who the new arrivals were, fear began to creep into their eyes, but just as quickly, they relaxed and took a step back from the table.

Erik nodded his thanks to Emma and approached. When he drew close enough to see what was on the table, his blood began to boil. A dead man with reptilian skin lied there, chest opened and organs partly dissected. A toe tag labeled him as “Mutant Subject 83.”

Erik whirled around, prepared to use whatever he could to tear the scientists to pieces, but Emma raised a hand to stop him. He opened his mouth to argue, but then saw that she was nearly shaking with anger.

“Magneto, I swear they’ll get what’s coming to them. But we can use them first.” She motioned to one scientist, a tall blond man with glasses, to step forward. “You. Take us to any mutant still alive in this hellhole.”

He began to move towards the far end of the lab. Erik and Emma followed, leaving Riptide to guard the remaining scientists and Azazel to watch the door.

 

 

It was all Erik could do to restrain himself from crushing everything around him as they walked past more mutant bodies, some in the process of being autopsied and others already dissected. In the very back of the lab was a solid steel door. Erik swing it open to reveal a dirty, fetid holding cell.

A young woman with dark, unkempt hair came barreling out, gasping in the fresh air. She was rail thin and badly bruised, and it wasn’t until he took a few steps closer that Erik was able to recognize her as Angel. “ _Mein Gott_ ,” he murmured under his breath.

Emma stood frozen in shock until Angel looked up and saw her. She ran into Emma’s arms and began to sob. Emma held her and smoothed her hair.

Not sure what more he could do to help, Erik went back to the cell to make sure it was empty. He stepped inside and saw what at first appeared to be a heap of clothing in the corner, but upon closer examination, was a middle-aged woman curled on the floor. Whatever grotesque experiments had been performed on her seemed to have sapped her energy and most of her life. Erik glanced back at Emma to see if there was any hope, but the telepath just shook her head sadly and turned her attention back to Angel.

Erik hated feeling powerless. He swore to destroy every human who had anything to do with what had happened here. But first, he would do the one thing he could for the mutant breathing her last in front of him. He would make sure she didn’t have to die alone.

Erik steeled himself and stepped inside the cell, closing the door behind him. He knelt down next to the woman and forced a smile, speaking in as soothing a tone as he could manage with his voice shaking from rage and grief. He asked how she came to be here and ground his teeth as she confirmed his worst fears – the US government had authorized and was fully funding the Weapon X program. They were forcing mutants with useful combat skills to fight in the war and shipping those with less useful skills to facilities like this one for research. This woman had been dubbed less useful.

Erik took a steadying breath. He was close to tears, but this moment wasn’t about him. Taking the dying woman’s hand in his, he vowed that he would make things right and promised that her death wouldn’t be in vain.

To his surprise, the woman responded by giving him a feeble smile, patting his hand, and telling him that everything would be alright. Something in her eyes reminded him of his mother in her final moments, and as the woman slipped away, he gave himself a moment to mourn.

When Erik emerged from the cell to rejoin his team, he made sure that the only emotion he conveyed was righteous anger. He led them outside and brought the warehouse crashing down on top of everyone still inside.

No one spoke until Azazel had transported them back to the basement apartment they were using as a temporary headquarters.

“So, boss. What’s next?”

Erik frowned. Clearly what they’d done so far hadn’t been enough. They needed to go bigger, to teach the humans a lesson they’d never forget. He had a few ideas in mind, but all required a much larger group then the one they had now. That left them with only one option.

“We need to recruit.”


	4. With a Little Help From My Friends

_Woodstock, NY, 1969_

 

Charles was in heaven.

That seemed to be the only explanation for how something this wonderful could exist. He had never seen such a colorful and diverse group of people in his life. Even more impressively, all of them seemed to be happy and relaxed, enjoying the gorgeous weather and each other’s company. As their car inched closer, they passed drumming circles, impromptu yoga classes, children playing, and a wide variety of farm animals interspersed with the crowd. He even thought he had spotted a few couples getting it on in the midst of the tall grass.

He glanced over at Hank in the driver’s seat and they exchanged a smile. Then he looked back to Raven. “Aren’t you glad you came?”

Much to their surprise, Raven had ended up joining them on the trip. She hadn’t offered much of an explanation for her change of heart, but Charles had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. And so far, she’d been unusually pleasant and upbeat.  

Things had nearly gone south when they stopped at a convenience store in town and the owner casually referred to them as “freaks.” Raven had demanded that he explain what he meant by that and the man stammered. Even in her petite blonde form, she could be scary as hell when she wanted to be.

But then the owner explained, “I don’t mean anything derogatory by it, miss. You’re all bringing good money into the town and most of you mean well. Were just feeling kind of besieged here. People are just leaving their cars wherever they feel like. My brother went to go try and direct traffic, but then they announced that anyone who wanted to could get into the festival for free. He just gave up.”

Hank’s eyes widened. “Wait, they’re letting everyone in free?”

“Yep. Pulled down the fences and everything so more people could get into the farm.”

“But setting this whole thing up must have cost millions. How are the organizers making any money from this?”

“They’re not. I heard they told some reporters that money wasn’t as important as the fact this was happening, so they’d worry about all that later.”

Raven had grinned and turned to Charles. “I have to give you hippies some credit. That’s out of sight!”

By the time they got out of the car and began walking towards the farm, she had come all the way around to embracing the term. She shouted “Freaks and proud!” by way of greeting to nearly everyone they came across. To her delight and Charles’s amusement, most of their fellow hippies repeated the phrase back to her.

“I’m starting a thing,” she informed Hank.

The shop owner had not been exaggerating when he said cars were everywhere. Everything from Bugs to vans to graffitied schoolbuses were parked haphazardly along the sides of the roads, in empty fields, and occasionally even in people’s lawns. Tent cities were springing up wherever there was enough space between cars. Shirtless men and women in flowing skirts sat on blankets, sharing everything from food to pot to LSD. 

Once Charles, Hank, and Raven had stepped over a trampled fence and made their way to the farm proper, they began looking around for a relatively clear area. They found a spot by some berry bushes and began setting up camp. When Raven was already inside her popped tent and Hank was putting the finishing touches on his, Charles found himself still struggling to get his to stand upright. He was growing frustrated. He knew Hank’s wonder drug had some deleterious effects on his coordination, but this seemed particularly bad. Maybe it was because of the higher dose?

 “Hey, man, let me get that for you.”

Charles turned to see a black man with a friendly smile reaching out a hand to help. Charles accepted gratefully. Once the tent was set up, the man introduced himself as Darwin, from the group of tents next to theirs. He led Charles over to sit with his driving buddy Alex, a good-looking blonde man with a quick wit and sardonic grin. Hank joined them soon after.

As the four of them sat down in the grass to smoke a bowl, Charles had a sudden conviction that there was something different about their new companions. Was that his powers again? Or just a feeling? He shrugged it off, telling himself it didn’t really matter either way, and refocused on the conversation.  

“It’s all just about being a human being, you know?” Darwin was saying. “Like, sure, this probably isn’t going to change the world, but then again, who knows? No one here needs power or money or whatever, they’re just looking for answers. People who are nowhere want somewhere to go, man, and this is it, you dig?”

Charles nodded sagely. “That’s what it’s all about. We can’t beat them at their game, but we can refuse to play.”

“That’s it exactly.” Darwin smiled, then glanced over at Alex, who seemed to have retreated into his own head. “You alright?”

Alex blinked and refocused. He shrugged. “Just thinking about my family.”

“We talked about that, man. You can’t do it.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just hard not to.”

Hank gave Alex a sympathetic look. “I hear you. What’s the deal with your people, Alex?”

“My parents are convinced I’ve run off to some sort of Communist training camp,” Alex explained. “They told me I didn’t appreciate how hard they’d worked to give me a good start in life and that I’m throwing it all away and being a bad influence on my little brother.” He frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe I am.”

Darwin tried to pass him the bowl, but Alex waved it off. “Nah, I’m good, man.”

“You sure, Alex? You’ve got to stay mellow.”

“I said I’m good.”

“That right there does not sound mellow to me. Come on, if we’re going to be out here with all these people…” He lowered his voice so only Alex could hear the rest of what he was saying.

Charles and Hank raised their eyebrows at each other. That was odd. Hank rose to stretch and Charles was wondering if it would be rude to ask Alex if he suffered from PTSD when he heard a sudden shriek.

“My God, Raven! What are you doing?” Hank was looking back in the direction of their tents, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

Charles turned around to see Raven walking towards them, naked and bright blue. He stumbled to his feet, alarmed as Darwin and Alex gaped.

Raven approached them and smiled coyly at Hank. “What’s the matter? Isn’t this supposed to be a place where everyone can just be themselves?”

Hank didn’t answer. He was too busy blushing and looking around wildly, trying not to stare at her.

Charles was desperately trying to think up a plausible explanation for this when Alex and Darwin rose and extended their hands to her in greeting.

“Hi, I’m Darwin.”

“Raven.”

“And I’m Alex. Killer body paint, Raven.” He gave her a thumbs up and Darwin nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

Charles breathed a sigh of relief.

Raven beamed. “I love you guys already. Now, come on. Ravi Shankar is already playing and I am going to freak out if we aren’t front and center for Joan Baez’s set. Did you hear that her husband was arrested for not following his draft notice? How badass is that?”

“I don’t know if ‘badass’ is the word I’d use…” Charles began, but Raven ignored him and gestured for the group to get moving.

Darwin, Alex, and Hank began walking in the direction of the stage, but Raven paused when she saw Charles hanging back. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kind of off.”

“Come on, Charles, let’s go. You don’t get out of the house enough and we have an entire weekend to sing, dance, and party with cute boys. It’ll be a blast!”

Charles froze as a series of images flashed abruptly before him – a bomb exploding in a draft office, a gun at a political rally, laboratory walls crumpling in on themselves…

“Charles? Charles, are you okay?”

He forced his eyes open and found himself facing Raven, her hands on his shoulders and a look of alarm on her face.

“Charles, what happened?”

“I… I’m not sure. I saw attacks, like… domestic terrorism stuff.”

Even with her blue skin, Charles could see Raven’s face pale. But she forced a smile and said, “Don’t worry about it. The pot was probably laced with LSD or something, not a big deal.”

“It wasn’t the pot, Raven. It felt like I was picking up something from someone around me.”

“When’s the last time you had a dose of the serum?”

“Not since this morning. I was scheduled for one, but my hands were being all shaky and I thought I’d be able to handle missing a dose. I guess not, huh? You go ahead. I should probably go get one now.”

Raven hesitated, then looked away before mumbling, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. See you there, Charles.”

She patted his arm, then turned and walked away.

He looked after her, feeling concerned. He could have sworn those images were linked to her, but Raven wouldn’t do anything like that. Would she? They hadn’t exactly been close the last few years and she did seem to be growing increasingly radical…

No, he was being paranoid. It probably was the pot. He’d stick to his own from now on.

Charles headed back to his tent and reminded himself to think positively. He was capable of being happy. He had a family and friends and a community. It was a beautiful night and there were beautiful songs playing. Woodstock was three days of peace and music and it was going to change his life. 


	5. They Live the Life

Erik and his team arrived in Woodstock on the second morning of the festival. Traffic was backed up for miles and Erik cursed their inability to have Azazel just transport them. Valuable as his presence would have been, the group had decided his appearance posed too much of a risk.

Instead, Erik had been driving for hours and spent the whole time questioning the decision to even come here in the first place. He understood Emma's argument that an event like this would be likely to attract society's outsiders - people who, if they were mutants, would believe there was something wrong with how they were treated and might be willing to stand up against it. He had also been intrigued by her mention of a rumor that one of the festival's best-known performers was, secretly, a mutant. Someone like that coming out would be huge for the cause. Riptide and Azazel had agreed with Emma's logic enthusiastically. As enthusiasm from this group was rare, particularly from Riptide, Erik had ultimately acquiesced.   
  
The closer they got to Woodstock, the more he was regretting it.

When they were finally able to park, hours later, it was only because Erik had quietly nudged another car to make room. And even then, there was still a three-mile walk to the main grounds. It was a hot day, but Erik refused to remove his leather jacket. It was the principle of the thing. Even if they were here to befriend some of these hippies, he had no interest in being mistaken for one.

Emma and Riptide didn’t seem to mind. Riptide, who had arrived in a suit, was now barefoot and shirtless with his tie around his head. And Emma had never been one to wear too many clothes. She appeared fully in her element with a tight white miniskirt and nothing but a white bandana around her chest. Erik rolled his eyes, but had to admit that it would likely prove convenient. Looking like that, Emma wouldn’t even need telepathy to convince most men and some women to join her. Hopefully, that would let her focus more on locating potential mutants.

By the time they arrived on the outskirts of the main crowd, Erik was feeling extremely irritable. Before he had the chance to snap, Emma grabbed Riptide’s arm and informed Erik sunnily that they were off to meet her contact and would see him back here in an hour. And then they were gone.

Erik looked around awkwardly. He hated not being useful, but he didn’t even know where to start looking on his own. There were so many people; the crowd seemed to go on for miles. And there were even more coming.

Erik shook his head in disgust. All these people knew that their government was perpetrating evil. They all claimed to want change, but they just got high and sang songs instead of actually fighting for it. He felt rage rise up inside of him as he remembered the horrors they had uncovered at the lab. Such brutality and yet all these useless hippies around him had done nothing, would do nothing. So many more would be tortured, enslaved, murdered...

Erik blinked and the crowd around him seemed to fade out as he found himself flashing back to the dying woman in the lab. She was speaking to him, but the words were different. _Alles ist gut, Erik._ His mother collapsed.

Erik stumbled as he struggled to rid the images from his mind. He found himself in an ocean of people and looked around, trying to get his bearings, but all the faces seemed to swim before him and blur. He fought down a rising tide of panic. He couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d felt disoriented and trapped in a crowd and he could have sworn that, for a moment, he’d seen the gates of the camp out of the corner of his eye.

What the hell was happening to him? He needed help. He needed to make this stop, to find some solid ground. He reached out for all the metal around him. The metal felt good, safe. He wanted to call it to him, no matter what it did to those around him. He needed to. Erik lifted his hand…

And found it clasped by another. He was pulled out of the crowd and over to a relatively peaceful space under a tree. A male voice with a British accent asked, “You alright there, friend? You looked a bit unsteady on your feet.”

Erik opened his mouth to bark at the stranger to get away from him. He didn’t need anyone else witnessing his moment of weakness, but the words faded away when he looked up and fully took in his rescuer for the first time. He really had the most remarkably blue eyes. And even under all the hippie shit, it was clear he was a remarkably handsome man. In fact, though Erik detested long hair and flower prints, he might have to concede that the stranger somehow managed to make both look rather becoming…

“Um, hello? Are you on a bad trip or something, mate?”

“What? Oh, no. Sorry about that, was just having a moment.”

The man smiled and Erik found himself growing distracted again. It was really unfair that he had to find the first person to pique his interest in months in this godforsaken place.

“It’s no problem, man. It’s happened to the best of us. We’ve got a spot of shade here, though. Why don’t we take five and let whatever’s up with you pass?”

Erik knew he should say no, but he was tired and his mind was still reeling and this stranger had a strangely comforting presence and unusually blue eyes, so instead he found himself joining his new friend on the ground and leaning back against the tree.

“I’m Charles Xavier, by the way.”

“Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Lovely to meet you, Erik. If I may, you really have the most fascinating eyes. What color are they, exactly?”

Erik smiled and, for the first time in as long as he could remember, let his guard down.

 


	6. Rainbows Over Your Blues

The drugs Charles took in frankly alarming quantities were usually enough to keep the thoughts of people around him down to a not unpleasant thrum. He could feel emotions of crowds – hence his love of events like this one – and could pick out an individual’s general state of mind if he focused very hard, but he hadn’t heard a specific thought in years.

So it was quite a surprise when, while wandering aimlessly through the crowd, he heard someone in his mind distinctly shouting for help. Startled, Charles tried to focus in on the mind in distress. He was out of practice, but there was a sharpness and precision to this mind, distress clearly being unnatural to it, that he was able to pick it out quickly. Without thinking twice, he plunged into the crowd and grasped the hand that belonged to that mind. He pulled until he and the owner of the hand were both free of the throng, then turned and found himself facing one of the most handsome men he’d ever seen. And Charles had seen his fair share.

He had always felt it to be distinctly unfair that he had been born gay and a mutant, and it had brought him a good deal of angst in his younger years. Since the war, however, his sexuality had joined the ever-growing list of things he found himself no longer caring about. One of the benefits of being part of a movement that preached “free love” was that, for the most part, the people he surrounded himself with didn’t care much, either.

The man in front of him was dressed rather differently than Charles’s other conquests, forsaking baggy clothes and tie-dye for tight jeans and a leather jacket, but given that he was here at Woodstock, Charles figured he had a decent shot. At the very least, he likely didn’t have to worry about being punched in the face if he was wrong. He smiled flirtily and sat down under a tree, gesturing for his new friend to join him.

The man was cold and a bit aloof at first, but Charles chalked that up to the bad trip he had clearly been on. He seemed to warm up quickly and, in just a few minutes, Charles had learned that his name was Erik, he had been born in Germany, and he was interested in architecture.

Charles felt he didn’t really need much more information than that to determine that, yes, he would indeed like to sleep with this man. He would have loved the chance to take another hit for confidence, but he’d make do with some corny lines that had worked for him before.

“So, Erik, do you have any interest in genetics?”

Erik raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “As much as anyone, I suppose.”

Charles leaned in closer to him. “Well, if I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes.”

“That’s terrible.” Erik laughed, a warm chuckle in his ear, and Charles felt himself blushing.

Erik leaned in close enough so Charles could feel his breath on his cheek as he said in a low voice, “You know, it’s a good thing you’re so attractive or the combination of that hair and those lines would scare most people away.”

Charles was fairly certain he had just been insulted, but his mind was too focused in on the fact that Erik was an inch away from him and had called him attractive to care. He laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, love, I have more where those came from.”

Charles pulled away just enough so that he could study Erik’s face. Chiseled jaw, thin lips with a quirk of a smile, those gorgeous yes… Yes, those would do nicely. “Your eyes are a rather stunning mix of blue and green, maybe even a little grey, all of which are recessive alleles to brown. So having eyes that color is a mutation. A very groovy mutation, if I do say so myself. But you, sir, are a mutant.”

Erik jerked back abruptly and his demeanor instantly became ice cold. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Um, I didn’t mean to imply… I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with… It’s just a line, it’s a joke, you know?” Charles was flustered. Erik was still glaring. How had things gone so wrong so fast?

“So you think mutations are all a big joke?”

“No, of course not. I support mutants’ rights…”

“Oh, I’m sure everyone here does. Theoretically. But if you were faced with actual mutations, less appealing ones, you’d change your tune.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Really?” Erik sneered. “We’ll see about that.”

After glancing around to make sure no one else was paying attention, Erik lifted a hand and gestured towards a wire fence nearby that had been trampled to the ground. Slowly, the pieces of wire rose up and began re-weaving themselves into a standing fence.

Charles was floored. He’d read about kinetic mutations, but had never gotten to see one up close before. He hadn’t expected the grace and control with which Erik used his abilities. And the potential of what he could do if his powers were at full strength…

Charles shot him a delighted grin. “That’s amazing! Really exquisite, Erik.”

Erik was staring at him, nonplussed. “You’re not… frightened? Or upset that I’m a mutant?”

“Not at all.”

“But… why?”

Charles’s grin grew even wider. “Because I’m one, too.”


	7. See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me

By the time the sun set, Erik and Charles had been sitting by that same tree talking for hours. Erik had never had the time or the inclination to share his life story before, but there was something about Charles that made him incredibly easy to talk to. That, coupled with the fact that when Charles regained his powers he’d be able to know all of it in an instant, made Erik feel strangely comfortable sharing.

Moreover, Erik found the man absolutely fascinating. His politics were completely wrong, of course, but he had some fascinating insights into interventionism, mutant integration, and a wide variety of other topics. Erik could even begrudgingly admit that Charles made some fair points about the deleterious effects of violence when used as political protest. Charles felt particularly strongly about that point, which Erik supposed was natural after what had clearly been a traumatizing tour in Vietnam.

“But, I don’t understand, Charles. Why you didn’t just stop it?”

“I told you, I didn’t have enough control to block out…”

“No. The war. Stryker’s program. All of it. You could do it, if you had your powers.”

Charles looked away. “It would be immoral to control people like that.”

“Would it? Considering what you’d be accomplishing, all the lives you’d be saving? Don’t the ends justify the means in a case like that?”

“Look, even if I considered using my powers to end the war morally justifiable, which I’m not saying I do, it would be impossible. Do you realize how much power and control it would take to change all the minds I’d need to? It wouldn’t just be the generals, or even the president. It’s everyone in a position of power. And everyone who might be try to work their way into a position of power by exploiting the current administration’s sudden pacifist standpoint. And it wouldn’t just be here, it would be all over the world. I can’t do that. I doubt anyone could.”

Erik relented. “Fine, I get it, it’s complicated. But still, there’s a lot you could be doing if you weren’t on those damn drugs.”

“I told you, they are basically the only things keeping me sane. And I haven’t even taken any since this morning. I heard you in the crowd – thoughts are always easier to hear when there’s intense emotion behind them. It’s like you’re shouting. Regardless, the abilities start coming back fairly quickly. Go ahead, think something and I’ll see if I can read it.”

“Alright, then. What am I thinking?”

Charles grimaced. “That drugs are bad and that I could be so much more than a useless hippie. Thanks, Erik, but I think my sister could have told you that and she’s as far from psychic as someone could possibly be. Think about something unusual and… Wait. What the hell? Is that supposed to be an iron smelting factory run by werewolves?”

Erik shrugged good-naturedly. “You told me to make it unusual.”

“Fair enough. The point is, I got it.”

“Right, but I was projecting. I have a telepath friend and that’s the easiest thing to read. How about we take it to another level - can you pull out a memory?”

Charles hesitated. “Maybe. I’m not sure. But to even try, I’d need to push deeper into your mind. Is that alright with you?”

Erik hesitated. There was a lot in there he’d rather not share with anyone. But Emma was the most powerful telepath he knew and even she couldn’t get that deep, so he figured he didn’t need to be overly concerned about this.

“Sure.”

Erik was beginning to call up a few innocuous memories for Charles when he suddenly found himself in his old house in Germany. He was still a boy and his mother was there, smiling and guiding his hand to light their menorah…

When Erik came back to reality, there were tears blurring his vision. He looked over at Charles and saw him wipe away a tear as well. “Are you alright, Erik? I’m so sorry if that was too deep. I’m out of practice.”

“No, I’m… I didn’t realize I still had that. Thank you.”

“That was a very beautiful memory, Erik. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Erik took a steadying breath before continuing. “You’re very powerful, Charles. Imagine what you could do without those drugs. You have such amazing potential.”

 “So do you, Erik. You could do even more than you do already. From what I understand, it’s all about concentration. Channeling emotion. Finding the place between rage and serenity.”

“Are you sure you’re not still high?”

Charles laughed. “It’s something I’m working on, too. Or, at least, I was. I suppose I should start again, shouldn’t I?”

“You should. Hmm. Rage and serenity. I think I have too much of one and you have too much of the other.”

“We’d make a great team. If, you know, we could agree on any goals to accomplish.”

Erik laughed and they lapsed into a companionable silence. Erik got up to stretch and Charles followed suit. Erik couldn’t help but let his gaze wander. It had gotten very humid and Charles had taken off his shirt and vest to reveal a trim body covered in a dusting of freckles that Erik was struggling to keep his eyes off of.

Even Erik had relented enough to remove his jacket, but he refused on principle to take off the black shirt he wore underneath. Even so, if the way Charles kept glancing over at him was any indication, he wasn’t the only one finding himself rather taken with his new friend.

He knew very well that he should have left to find his team hours ago. Frankly, he was surprised Emma hadn’t tracked him down and given him an earful by this point. But who knew? Maybe recruitment was going exceptionally well and they wouldn’t want to be interrupted. He could be doing them all a favor by staying here and allowing himself to be distracted by an attractive fellow mutant, even if there was no chance in hell that Charles would join their cause.

Erik rolled his eyes at himself. He was being ridiculous. He knew very well that he should go. But there was a small voice in the back of his head asking if there was really anything so wrong with wanting to stay here with Charles. Attraction aside, this was the most interesting and meaningful conversation he’d had in years. Why shouldn’t he allow himself to enjoy it?

“Erik? Are you alright?”

“Sorry? Oh, yes. Drifted off a bit. What were you saying?

“I was just saying how much I love this song. Do you know it?”

“I have to admit that I know embarrassingly little about current music.”

“Seriously? You don’t know The Who?”

“Who?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Get out of your own head for a minute and give it a listen. This is the last track off their album _Tommy_ , which is about a deaf, dumb, and blind kid who starts a pinball cult.”

“As you do.”

“Hush, you. It’s a beautiful song. And, context aside, I have to admit to finding it kind of sexy, especially this version they’re doing now.”

Erik looked over at Charles and their eyes met. He wasn’t sure if it was the music or a contact high or just Charles himself, but he suddenly felt as if there were an electric current in the air, sparking between them. He became acutely aware that there were only a scant few inches there, that if he just leaned in a little closer…

 

 

Charles moved forward to close the gap and then Erik was kissing him, cautiously at first and then with a growing passion. Erik ran his fingers along the stubble on Charles’s jaw. It had been a long time since he had been with a man and he had nearly forgotten how wonderfully right it felt. He moved his hands to Charles’s back and eagerly explored the expanse of bare skin. Erik could already feel himself hardening when Charles’s hands drifted southward to cup him through his jeans. “Ooh, you’re big,” he murmured, and began to stroke gently.  Erik leaned his head back against the tree, giving himself a moment to just enjoy the sensation, but when Charles went for his zipper, Erik grabbed his hand.

Charles looked up at him, confused and a bit hurt, and Erik hurried to explain, “It’s not that I don’t want this, but there are a ton of people right near us. Is there somewhere else we can go?”

Charles stepped back to look around and Erik found himself instantly missing his warmth. After taking a moment and appearing to come to the conclusion that there was nothing to be done about the crowd, Charles took Erik’s hand and guided him back to his tent. It wasn’t spacious by any means, but would suit their needs just fine.

Erik dropped his jacket on the floor, then pulled Charles into his arms and began kissing him again. They broke apart only for Charles to tear off Erik’s shirt. Charles went to pull away again to take care of their pants, but Erik tightened his grip on the back of his head and used his powers to unzip both of their jeans.

“Impressive,” Charles panted when they finally paused for breath and pulled off their pants.

Erik pushed him down onto the blankets and hovered over Charles, propping himself up on his forearms. “I’m sure you could do even more impressive things without those drugs in you.”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ll need to show you some time.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Charles shot him a wicked grin as he shoved Erik and rolled them over so that he was on top. “I could hold you down or tie you up with a twitch of my fingers.” He trailed a hand down Erik’s stomach and began to stroke him through his briefs. “I could make you come without touching you or hold you back until you begged me for release.”

Erik groaned. “I’m on the verge of begging now.”

 At that, Charles deftly stripped both of them of their underwear. He sat back, looking Erik up and down hungrily. “There is so much I want to do with that gorgeous body. You better plan on being here all night.”

Erik was in no state to have any problem with that.

Charles continued to study him. “I can’t decide if I want to start by sucking you or having you suck me.”

Erik considered, then shot him a slow smile. “Why choose one?”

Charles’s eyes lit up and he bit his lower lip. Erik shivered in anticipation.

Charles turned and knelt over him slowly, giving Erik ample time to admire the tight curve of his ass and hope desperately that Charles has meant it when he told him they’d be there all night.

Erik was gratified to see that Charles was just as hard as he was, swollen and leaking. He raised his head and licked a long stripe down Charles’s cock, eliciting a wrecked moan that encouraged Erik to enthusiastically repeat the motion.   

When Charles finally took Erik’s cock in his mouth, Erik hollowed his cheeks and began sucking Charles in earnest. He had accepted that he was so far gone he wasn’t going to last long this round. Still, he was determined to give as good as he got. Charles seemed to be of a similar mind. He reached down to dig his fingers into Erik’s backside and Erik felt his eyes nearly roll back in his head. _Mein Gott_ , _that feels so fucking good._

Charles did it again and Erik realized that Charles very well might be able to hear him. He felt like he should probably be embarrassed or even disturbed by this. Instead, he found it unbelievably sexy to think that someone with that much power wanted him, was sucking his cock like his life depended on it.

It was with that thought that Erik came hard, his vision whiting out as Charles sucked him down.

Once he could form some semblance of thought again, he relaxed his jaw and pulled down on Charles’s hips, encouraging him to let loose and fuck his mouth until he shuddered and spilled down Erik’s throat.

After a moment, Charles rolled off of him and they both just lay there, winded. Erik turned his head to press a kiss to Charles’s hip and mumbled, “You’re incredible.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Charles sat up, smiling, and rearranged himself so that he was once again resting on Erik’s chest.

As Erik began to come back to himself, it occurred to him that he should get up, grab his clothes, and get going. He should have gone to find his team hours ago. He’d let himself become distracted and he absolutely could not allow himself to…

His train of thought was interrupted by Charles beginning to press soft kisses to his collarbone while tracing gentle circles on his chest. Erik had thought himself all but spent, but he felt his cock beginning to take an interest as Charles worked his way up his neck.

Charles moved his lips to Erik’s ear and whispered, “I felt that. You’re insatiable, Erik.”

 “I believe I was told something about going all night?”

“You really are the most wonderful man I’ve met in a long time.”

“You have no idea,” Erik whispered and pulled Charles’s mouth down to meet his.

 


	8. Something to Say

Charles was enjoying his first dreamless sleep in forever when he was awoken by the sudden absence of what had been a warm, comforting presence by his side. He opened his eyes to find the sunlight wafting softly down through the tent, bringing out the streaks of blonde in Erik’s hair and highlighting the well-defined muscles of his back and shoulders as he crouched down.

Charles smiled dreamily. This beautiful man had been his last night. Charles was opening his mouth to suggest that they have another go when Erik stood up, still facing away from him, and silently began to pull on his clothes.

Charles shut his eyes quickly and pretended to be asleep. He tried to will away his disappointment. He should have known it was just sex – and it was great sex, so he shouldn’t be complaining – but he thought there had been a deeper connection.

Apparently not.

As Erik lifted the tent flap to leave, Charles couldn’t help bring a finger to his temple and reaching out to brush Erik’s mind one last time. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but what he found shocked him. There was a series of terrifyingly familiar images – a bomb, a gun, a collapsing building – and then something else, something that was still just an idea but was bigger and far more dangerous…

Charles’s eyes snapped open and he shot up, pulling on whatever clothes he could get his hands on. The fact that those first images were the same he had gotten from Raven was concerning enough, but he would have to deal with that later. The priority was finding Erik. It seemed he was planning to make a violent statement sometime soon with the potential for mass casualties.

He left the tent and glanced around, relieved to see no sign of Hank or Raven. He concentrated until he found the steady hum of Erik’s mind and followed it. He walked all the way to the outskirts of the farm before he spotted him.

Erik was standing with his back to Charles, giving an impassioned speech to a group of people whom Charles was startled to realize were all mutants. He continued his approach. A dark-haired young woman stared at him in surprise. As she rose and took a step towards him, Erik turned his head and trailed off when he recognized Charles.

The woman moved closer to Erik and said, “Don’t worry about him. He’sa mutant, but a total druggie, so no use trying to get him to come with us. Come on, we should hit the road with the new recruits. Didn’t get the big one, but got everyone else we need.”

Charles stopped a few feet away from them and said sarcastically, “Thanks, Raven. Lovely introduction.”

Raven blinked in surprise. “But… how did you know it was me?”

“I missed a dose or two.” He glanced at Erik. “I was distracted. It appears you’re both in quite a hurry to leave without saying goodbye. Don’t worry, I won’t hold you up for long. Please excuse us, Raven, I need to speak to Erik for a moment. Alone.”

She raised an eyebrow, then looked over to Erik as if requesting permission. He subtly nodded and she shot Charles an apologetic look before calling to the group to follow her to the transportation Emma had arranged for them. 

Erik watched them go, then turned his attention to Charles. His face was unreadable.

Charles put his hands in his pockets. “So.”

“About last night…” Erik began, but Charles didn’t let him finish. It would be too painful to be given the very same brush-off he’d given nearly all of his conquests since the war.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to come up with an excuse to get rid of me. The sex was great and all, but it didn’t mean anything. I get it. That’s not why I’m here.”

“That… wasn’t what I was going to say.” Erik looked at the ground and shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Charles.”

“Oh?” Charles paused, surprised, before reminding himself that he had neither the time nor inclination to get hung up on Erik’s feelings about their relationship. “I came to find you because I got an image from your mind – by accident, of course, it’s been a while since I’ve had to control my powers, and I’m sorry, but I can’t un-see it. You’re planning something. Something violent…”

“Look, just trust me when I say it’s important. Crucial, even.”

“I’m supposed to just accept that?”

“It’s the truth. Don’t you get it? That’s why I was trying to leave without saying goodbye. When I woke up this morning, all I wanted to do was stay there, in that tent with you, for the entire rest of this festival. And I can’t afford to be feeling like that. Maybe some day, but right now, I have more important things to do.”

Charles felt the knot in his chest tighten. “Please, Erik, think this over. We can figure this out. I can help…”

“Charles, be reasonable. We both know very well that you would never support my methods.”

“I understand what you’re trying to do, I really do, but this is the wrong way to go about it.”

“And what has your way accomplished? You have hundred of thousands of people here, all claiming to stand for something, but what are they actually doing to effect real change? What are you doing?”

Charles hesitated. “I don’t… I just know there’s got to be a better way.”

Erik’s face softened and he took a step closer to him as he said, “Whenever you figure it out, look me up, ok?”

Charles looked up and their eyes met. He could read Erik’s mind, but he didn’t have to. He smiled sadly. “We’re never going to see each other again, are we?”

Erik didn’t respond.

Charles took another step and closed the distance between them. He pressed a soft kiss to Erik’s lips and whispered, “Goodbye, Erik.”

Erik remained frozen, just staring at him.

Charles took a deep breath and forced himself to turn around and begin walking away. There was a boom of thunder and he felt drops of rain begin to hit his skin. People around him shrieked and laughed, running to get in or out of the rainstorm.

With all the noise, Charles wasn’t sure if it was real or just his imagination when he heard Erik call across the growing space between them, “Goodbye, Charles.”

 

* * *

 

Charles went through the last day of the festival in a haze. He had the vague idea that he should find Hank and take his meds, but instead he found himself wandering aimlessly through the crowd and listening. Instead of being overwhelmed with a buzzing whirlwind of thoughts, as he’d feared, he found that most people’s minds were calm and pleasant despite the wind and rain really beginning to pick up.

He walked on. He felt the joy of a small child spinning around, catching raindrops on her tongue. The awe of a stoner as he watched lightning streak across the sky. The anxiety of a festival organizer as he urged people to get away from the tall metal support structures and the irritation of those hanging off those structures at losing their perfect view.

He opened his mind further. He was huddling under a piece of tarp with his girlfriend, having given up on staying dry but trying his best to keep her warm. He was tearing off his clothes and throwing his head back, thanking nature for providing him with a much-needed shower. He was worried the Feds had seeded the clouds to shut down the festival. He believed the man who was repeating into the microphone that they could stop the rain if they all thought hard enough, so he joined a circle of people making music with everything from sticks to bongs to soda cans.

Charles sighed contentedly to himself and smiled. He had thought he’d be perfectly content to never use his powers again, but now that they were returning, he was struck by how much he had missed this.   

After a while, he heard the still familiar whirring of Hank’s mind. Hank was constantly processing data, even when, as now, he was high as a kite. Charles smiled to himself. He moved towards Hank and found him talking with Alex and Darwin. Alex – a bit of a strange thought pattern there. Charles ventured a bit deeper and then snapped back, startled. Alex was… a mutant? Darwin, too?

“Charles!” called Hank. “Where have you been?”

“Just around. Not a big deal.”

“You’ve been missing since last night.”

“I wasn’t missing. In fact, I was right here in my tent for a good part of it.”

Hank looked confused. “Well, why didn’t you come find us, then?”

Darwin rolled his eyes. “I don’t think he was alone in the tent, Hank.”

“Oh! Right. Sorry.”

Alex laughed. “You were in there all night? Must have been a great fuck to have kept your attention that long. Can we share?”

Charles tried to force a laugh, but his voice was undeniably prickly when he responded, “Too late. They left.”

“Whatever, man, we can find you someone new!” Alex walked over and slapped Charles on the back. “There were some choice ladies around here. I’m gonna meet up with one of them once The Band starts. I could definitely find you a chick.”

Darwin raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Charles. “Or a cat, if that’s more your speed? Cool either way, man. But we should go now, the rain’s finally letting up.”

Charles shook his head. “Nah, thanks, man. You guys go have fun. I’ll meet you back at the car when it’s all over.”

Darwin shrugged and he and Alex began walking away. Hank called that he’d catch up to them, then lowered his voice to Charles. “Hey, everything alright?”

“I’m fine. You go with Alex and Darwin, have a good time.”

“Are you sure? You seem kind of off.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s been, what, like twenty-four hours since you’ve had a dose? I have more in my tent, if you need it.”

“No, I’m good, actually.”

Hank gave him a hesitant smile, like he wasn’t sure whether to be proud or concerned. “Well, that’s great, Charles. Raven would be thrilled. Speaking of, have you seen her around at all?”

“Oh, yeah, she met up with some friends who weren’t feeling it and grabbed a ride home with them.”

“Oh.” Hank was unsuccessful in his attempt to hide his disappointment.

“Yeah. I was pretty bummed, too. But we’ll both be fine. Now, go catch up with Alex and meet some of those ‘choice ladies’ he was talking about!”

With the air of a man steeling himself for a gladiator fight, Hank took a deep breath, then nodded and jogged after Alex and Darwin.

 Charles began packing up his tent as he heard the Grease Band begin to play _Who Knows What Tomorrow May Bring_ in the distance.

 _Who knows, indeed_ , Charles thought. He sighed. He’d probably never see Erik again. And he and Raven were due for what was sure to be an awkward conversation. He should feel depressed. And yet, he felt the stirring of something within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while. He thought it might be hope.

As he grabbed his satchel, a few vials fell out onto the floor. Charles pondered them. Was Erik right?

He absolutely disagreed with Erik’s conviction that violence was acceptable, even necessary, to promote change.

But, to be fair, shutting the world out and lecturing about peace from his couch wasn’t the right way, either. Nor was claiming mutants should have pride and courage while he hid from his powers.

At the very least, he could join a protest, or something.

He considered pouring the vials out, but instead picked them up and put them back in the bag. They’d be there if he needed them. Sometimes that knowledge was enough.

Satisfied with this conclusion, Charles finished packing and walked towards the music, sharing a joint with some others nearby as the waited for Joe Cocker to come on. 


	9. Somethin’ Comin’ On

_New York City, three weeks later_

 

Erik woke and left his bed quickly, brushing aside the remnants of a dream he was growing all-too familiar with. Today of all days, he could not afford to be distracted by thoughts of blue eyes and soft lips.

He pulled on his helmet and entered the kitchen to nod a greeting to his team. In less than an hour, they would be on their way to carry out what would be the largest and most public demonstration they had ever made. Oddly enough, the usually anti-mutant press had been pivotal in allowing this to happen. Erik and his Brotherhood of Mutants, now nearing twenty after Woodstock recruitment, had had a plan in mind but had remained unsure of their target until the Times had broken the news that a newly built chemical plant in Jersey City was suspected of being a cover for a military research project coded only by the letter X.

Further research by the Brotherhood had proven that there was indeed a brand new, massive Weapon X lab located below ground underneath the building. When Erik learned that the plant would officially begin operations in less than a week’s time, he was resolved to make this their target.

And now, the day had come. The plan was in place. His team would subdue the guards as Erik tore the building up and broke it open, exposing the labs to the world. Once people saw what their government was doing behind closed doors, he would allow his team to punish those inside however they saw fit. Then people would finally see that mutants were right to be angry and should be feared as a result.

 

* * *

 

 

As the team fanned out around the building’s perimeter, Erik had Azazel drop him and Emma off on the roof of a factory across the street. Emma took out binoculars and began scanning the crowd below as Erik familiarized himself with the plant’s metal supports. He wanted to be as sure as possible that there wouldn’t be any surprises.

After a moment, Emma sat back and sighed dramatically, gesturing towards a group of protesters who had chained themselves to the front doors of the building. “Look at those self-absorbed drama queens.”

“They think they’re helping.” Erik was only half-paying attention as he continued to feel around for where the building’s weakest supports were.

“Well, they aren’t.” Emma laughed. “Oh, well. They may end up being martyrs for the cause yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You do comprehend that picking up a building and smashing it down on top of people just might cause some collateral damage?”

“Of course, but I’m not particularly concerned about it. Everyone nearby either works for Weapon X or supports it.”

“Except those protesters.”

Erik finally stopped what he was doing and took the binoculars to study the group Emma was pointing at. They were placed quite problematically - they were definitely at risk when the building came down. Very unfortunate. But it was too late to change the plan now and taking the time to get that group to safety could ruin the whole thing. Emma was right; anyone who truly cared about their cause would be willing to sacrifice themselves to…

He froze. The man on the far side of the chain had long brown hair that looked alarmingly familiar. Erik struggled to get a better look at his face. After a moment, the man turned and Erik found himself staring at the face that had been haunting his dreams since Woodstock. “Fuck!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Emma hissed at him, then grabbed the binoculars back to try to see what set him off. “I don’t see why… Wait, is that…?” She glanced back to Erik and the look on his face confirmed her suspicion. “Goddamn it, Erik, tell me you are not seriously considering torpedoing our entire plan because of some hippie you fucked weeks ago?”

“Of course not, it’s just… unfortunate.”

“Erik Lehnsherr. I may not be able to read your mind right now, but I know you well enough to know that you care much more about that burnout that you are willing to admit, probably even to yourself. And that is unacceptable. I have worked too hard and too long for this.”

“Fuck off, Emma. I’m not a sociopath like you; of course I care that I could be putting a… friend in danger. But what we’re doing here is bigger than that. I’ll do what I need to do.”

“You better. Ready for me to count everyone down?”

“Hold on. There’s something strange going on there, some military brass is going up to the protestors. I can’t quite make it out… Damn, is that William Stryker?”

Emma took a closer look. “It is. It’s our lucky day, Erik. Let’s… Wait, there is something odd happening with that blonde kid. He’s freaking out or something. Let me see if I can read any of them.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. After a moment, she opened them wide and turned to face Erik, her face ashen. “Erik, we have a problem.” 


	10. Find the Cost of Freedom

Since returning from Woodstock, Charles had been on the lookout for opportunities to honor the promise he’d made to himself the last day there. He watched the news every day and found it to be a far more upsetting experience without the benefit of any drugs. There was so much wrong with the world that it was overwhelming to even think about where to start. Even so, having somewhere to focus his attention and energy had helped his recovery process a great deal. And then he saw a news report about a chemical plant that was suspected of being a front for a military program and he had his answer.

He invited Darwin and Alex to join him and they’d enthusiastically agreed, even offering to bring along some like-minded friends. They had never officially come out to him as mutants, but they had made it clear that they’d be happy to join him and Hank in more direct activism.

Charles had extended an invitation to Raven, but had received no response. His powers had returned enough that he could have tracked her down, but he had chosen to respect her privacy. He was also well aware that there would be quite a bit they needed to discuss next time the saw each other – much of which was mixed up with a certain person he had not been allowing himself to think about – so not being able to get in touch with her was not as devastating a prospect as it otherwise might have been.

And so it was that Charles and Hank made their way to New Jersey to meet up with Alex, Darwin, and the others. When they arrived, they found Darwin holding a length of chain. They were early enough that there were only a few guards milling around nearby, so Charles was able to subtly touch his fingers to his temple and convince them to look away while the group made quick work of chaining themselves to the front door. By the time enough people had arrived to take notice, it was too late to remove them.

A good amount of press showed up, encouraged by the same reports that had led Charles’s group there, and many of the cameras were pointed directly at them.

Charles was thinking this had been a good day’s work when a humvee drove up and William Stryker emerged, along with some other uniformed men.

Charles froze. Even now, five years later, the man’s presence was enough to send a chill down his spine. He remembered the repulsive flash he’d gotten from Stryker’s mind back in Vietnam and found himself having no trouble imagining that even the worst rumors about Weapon X were true.

Stryker paused to make a brief statement to the surrounding crowd of reporters. “The rumors that this is a cover-up for some sort of secret military program are completely ridiculous. I am here to complete a scheduled inspection, the sole purpose of which is to make sure that this plant is up to the high standards required to contract with the United States military. Now, if you will please stand aside, I have a job to do.”

“Colonel Stryker, what about the protesters blocking the entrance?”

“They have every right to believe what they want to, but this is private property. The plant security didn’t have enough manpower to move them, but I do.”

Stryker turned briskly and approached the front door, flanked by his men. Charles ducked his head and fervently hoped he wouldn’t be recognized.

Stryker stopped in front of them and lowered his voice so the cameras wouldn’t be able to pick up anything he said. “Alright, freaks, you’ve made your point. This is your last chance to leave voluntarily.”

“Never, you murderer!” shouted the young woman chained between Hank and Alex. She then spat in his face.

A cruel glint came into Stryker’s eyes as he wiped his face and leaned in closer to her. “That’s what I figured. What’s going to happen now is that my men here will round you all up and take you to jail. I’d expect unusually poor treatment there. And since you want publicity so badly, I’ll make sure the full names and addresses of your families make their way out to anyone who might be interested in showing support for their country.”

Alex was getting increasingly agitated and Charles was deeply concerned. He still wasn’t entirely clear on what Alex’s power was, but this was not a good time to find out. He needed to make Stryker and his men move along. He went to lift his finger to his temple, but the chains wouldn’t allow that. Raven had always told him that the gesture was just a crutch, but it was one he’d been leaning on especially heavily since coming off the drugs. He was struggling to focus when one of Stryker’s men approached and hovered over Alex.

“And what’s wrong with you, you little spastic?” The man moved as if to grab Alex and there was a sudden flash.

A bright red beam of light shot out of Alex’s chest, blasting through the chain and incinerating the guard who had been harassing him. Everyone froze in shock for a moment, then there was utter chaos. 

The rest of Stryker’s men rushed the protestors, guns drawn. One took a shot at Alex, but Darwin knocked his friend out of the way. His flesh seemed to harden and the bullet bounced off of him.

The non-mutant protesters screamed in terror. Hank assumed his beast form and tore through what remained of the chains to free them.

Another group of soldiers were rushing towards them when a gust of wind came out of nowhere to lift them up and throw them backwards. Charles whirled around to see a new group of mutants arriving, some of whom he recognized as being part of Erik’s team. They joined Alex, Darwin, and Hank in grappling with the soldiers and the fighting spilled over onto the pavement in front of the plant. Reporters stumbled back, trying to maintain a safe distance without missing any of the action.

Charles was looking around wildly, trying to figure out where he’d be the most useful. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Stryker surreptitiously making his way through the chaos and slipping through the front doors. A figure in a maroon cape floated down onto the steps and hurried after him. Had that been…?

A solider followed the man inside and, before the door could close behind him, Charles caught a flash of blue and orange. Raven. What the hell was she thinking?

Damn. He couldn’t very well leave his sister in there with Stryker. Charles steeled himself, then snuck in behind them.

The main area looked enough like a normal chemical plant. Charles recalled that the reports had claimed that the secret facility was in the basement, so he searched around for a stairway and made his way down until he encountered what, on most days, probably appeared to be a blank wall, but today was torn open. Charles stepped through it and found himself inside a shockingly large laboratory. Its occupants barely noticed him as, scientists and guards alike, they were all fixated on the far side of the lab, where the man in maroon was holding Stryker pinned against the wall by a pipe. He was flanked by Raven, a man who looked alarmingly like the devil, and a shapely blonde woman, all of whom appeared to be arguing over whether to kill Stryker here, kill him in public, or take him away and torture him for information.

“Quiet,” the man commanded. He turned to face them and Charles looked on in horror. That was definitely Erik.

“We’re sticking to the plan,” he continued. “Stryker’s presence here is just an added bonus. Go up and get all mutants clear of the grounds. Once Emma gives me the all-clear, I’ll lift the building up long enough to give the press a good shot. Then I’ll bring it down on top of all these worthless scum.”

The others nodded their assent. The devil man grabbed the women’s hands and they all disappeared.

Erik turned his attention back to Stryker. “You are about to pay for your crimes, Colonel. Any last words?”

Stryker gritted, “Go ahead, kill me. And all the others in here. You’ll only be confirming for everyone out there that mutants are exactly as violent and dangerous as I’ve said they were all along.”

“They’ll understand why I did it when they see what you’ve done.”

“I doubt it. Fear is a much stronger drive than compassion. But go ahead. Do it. Kill me.”

“Erik, no!” Charles rushed forward.

Erik turned to face him in shock. “Charles?”

“Erik. You’re better than this.”

“He’s really not, Cha…” Stryker’s voice choked off as he was pressed more firmly against the wall.

Erik frowned. “Charles, you need to get out of here.”

“Look at how many people are in here. Are you really just going to murder them all? I can’t let you do this.”

“Have you looked around this place, Charles? Have you seen what they’ve done? Really look.”

Charles did. He stepped closer to the stations he’d rushed by before. On closer inspection, he found himself looking at pieces of dissected mutants displayed for study. He felt a sudden wave of nausea come over him and backed away. He turned around and saw that the opposite wall was lined with glass-paneled cells. Each one contained a mutant chained up and slumped over, dead.

Erik spoke then, his voice shaking with grief and anger. “When we breached the facility, they triggered a failsafe that flooded every cell with carbon monoxide. They wanted to ensure that no one could be taken alive. Why should we treat them any differently? “

Tears poured down his face and Charles found himself unable to speak.

Erik continued, “They’ll keep on doing this. If not Stryker, then someone else. If we don’t make a stand here, show the world what we’re willing to do to defend ourselves, this won’t be the last or the worst of what they’ll do to us. You have to understand that, Charles.”

Charles did understand. Erik likely wasn’t wrong that, if they let all of these people just walk away, there would be more of this. What Erik was planning to do to them was probably what they deserved. But that didn’t change the fact that killing them went against everything Charles stood for.

He fought for control of his voice. “You’re… not wrong....”

Erik looked relieved. He stepped closer to Charles and cupped his cheek. “So please, get out of here and let me do what needs to be done.”

“Let me finish, Erik. You’re not wrong, but still, there has to be another way. We have to be the better men.”

Erik growled in frustration. “Charles…”

“Erik. Do you trust me?”

There was a long pause. When he finally answered, Erik looked more surprised than Charles at what came out of his mouth. 

“Yes.”

“Then let’s handle this my way.” 


	11. Fire / Message to Love

_Woodstock, 1970_

 

Erik felt like his head was about to explode.

It was his own fault, really. They were back here at Woodstock for a celebration – three days of peace and music just for mutants – and as co-leaders of the Xavier Institute, he and Charles should be out being social. But once they had gotten their tent set up, they couldn’t help but start to reminisce about the first night they met. That had led to a vigorous lovemaking session that really should have left them feeling sated and ready to go network.

Instead, as they were in the process of putting their clothes back on, Erik had reminded Charles about the promises he’d made in this same tent about all the wonderful things his powers could do once he had regained them fully. Charles had grinned and pulled him back down to the blankets.

And that was how Erik found himself lying back and grasping at the blankets under him and Charles proceeded to give him what may well have been the best blowjob of his life. Under most circumstances, he would have come three times over already, but Charles had made good on his to not let him come until he begged.  

Erik had taken that as a challenge and had been determined to hold out, but he was beginning to lose his conviction. He felt wrecked, his mind devoid of anything other than the feel of Charles’s mouth on his cock and the desperate need to come.

 _Had enough?_ Charles thought at him.

Erik had fully intended to say no, but that somehow turned into _yes, yes, Charles, please_ and then all he could see was blinding white as he came harder than he ever had in his life.  

Erik collapsed back onto the sheets and let his eyes fall shut as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel Charles radiating pride and satisfaction at him as Charles moved up his body and rested his head on Erik’s chest. Erik smiled. He felt like he could happily sleep for the rest of the day.

“Boys!”

Erik opened his eyes in dismay.

“I know you’re in there. Come on, everyone’s looking for you!”

“Just a minute Raven,” Charles called out hoarsely.

She sighed dramatically and then they heard her moving away.

Charles brushed the hair out of his eyes and began attempting to tame it down. “Ah, well, looks like our time is up.”

Erik opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out.

“Oh, right. Sorry, love, I don’t think you were entirely aware of the noises you were making. Let me undo that. Then we should really get a move on.”

Raven was back and waiting impatiently by the time the left the tent.

“I really can’t believe the two of you. You’re like horny teenagers. Worse, sometimes. You already have your very own hippie commune at home. It’s almost time for the concert!”

She hurried off again and Erik raised an eyebrow. “Hippie commune?”

Charles shrugged. “Close enough.”

After the events at the chemical plant, everyone had all gone back to Charles’s mansion to lay low for a while. When no one showed any signs of leaving after a few months, Charles and Erik had decided to convert the mansion into an official safe haven where mutants could explore their powers in peace and learn to defend themselves. And if Charles focused more of his attention on the former and Erik on the latter, everyone seemed alright with that.

“Well, if it isn’t my old war buddy.”

“Logan!” Charles rushed over and flung his arms around the burly man, causing Logan to grin and lift him up off the ground in a bear hug.

Erik frowned. He had never been overly fond of the man. He told himself he had better reasons than an overdeveloped sense of possessiveness towards Charles, but he hadn’t yet been able to think of any.

“Oh, Erik, this is Logan. He’s the guard who saved me from Stryker back in Vietnam. And now he’s the main witness against him and everyone else involved in the Weapon X program.”

“I know who Logan is, Charles,” Erik gritted, then turned to Logan and forced a smile. “Hello, Logan. How’s the trial going?”

“Fine. I spent nearly a week telling them about everything - Vietnam to the secret labs to the names of government folks who knew what was going on and let it happen. Nothing the government doesn’t already know, of course, but after everyone saw what was going on in that lab on the news, someone had to get in trouble. And who’s wandering around the place but Stryker and his goons, saying they don’t remember anything. Crazy, right?”

Logan grinned at Charles, who winced, but managed a smile back. Much to Erik’s dismay, Charles had never entirely stopped feeling guilty about the whole thing. Erik had pointed out repeatedly that Charles had been too forgiving, if anything, by only taking away their mutant and military-related memories. 

Erik reached over to squeeze Charles’s hand and changed the subject. “At the very least, people are talking about mutants openly. Some are ignorant bigots, as you’d expect, but a surprisingly healthy amount were horrified by what the military was doing and actually want laws granting us legal protections.”

Raven butted into the conversation. “Yes, and a good deal of that is thanks to our special guest coming forward and coming out to put a public face on the whole thing before people got too panicky. Speaking of, he’s going to be starting any minute. Hank, Alex, and Emma are already up there.”

She grabbed Logan’s arm and began to pull him after her towards the stage. Charles and Erik followed, amused.

“You know,” Charles said, “I still can’t get over the fact that the greatest guitarist of our time, maybe even of any time, is a mutant. And the whole guitar thing isn’t even the mutation! I guess the whole guitar on fire at Monterey Pop thing was a bit of a hint, but who would have thought he’d started the fire with his mind?”

As they reached the stage, Jimi Hendrix was, appropriately enough, starting his set with the song, “Fire.”

Charles grinned with delight and Erik couldn’t help himself from returning the smile. Charles threw his arms around him and they danced to the music. Erik was surprised to find that he didn’t entirely hate it.

When the song ended, Jimi took the mic and exhorted the crowd to get out there and speak up. It was up to them to do whatever was necessary to make the masses wake up and pay attention. They needed to fight.

Charles stilled. After a moment, he turned to face Erik. “Should we be out there fighting?”

“The most important thing for us to be doing right now is to keep the people under our protection safe.”

Charles smiled softly. “Isn’t that usually my line?”

“The time will come when we’ll need to go out and fight. And when it does, we’ll be ready. But it’s not that time yet.”

“You know, I still hope that one of these days I’ll convince you that peace is possible.”

Erik wouldn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t shield it from Charles as he thought, _I hope so, too._

And then Charles kissed him and Erik let himself get lost in the love and the music.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Art crossposted to Alby's [DA](http://albymangroves.deviantart.com/) | [LJ](http://alby-mangroves.livejournal.com/) | [TUMBLR](http://www.artgroves.tumblr.com)


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